Only You
by redcognito
Summary: There is an inexplicable chill to the air on the morning that Stefan and Damon Salvatore leave Fell's Church. Matt/Stefan overtones.


Disclaimers: The Vampire Diaries and the boys belong to L.J. Smith.

Notes: This fic assumes that Elena didn't come back at the end of _Dark Reunion_ though everything else happened as described. There are some Matt/Stefan slashy overtones, but it's not meant as explicit slash. Infer from it what you will.

**Only You.**

_"All I needed was the love you gave, all I needed for another day, and all I ever knew... only you."_

-- Vince Clark, 'Only You'

There is an inexplicable chill to the air on the morning that Stefan and Damon Salvatore leave Fell's Church. Where they plan on going Matt isn't entirely sure, and he suspects that they have no firm ideas themselves. Perhaps back to Italy, Stefan had said a few nights previously, though perhaps they'd take the time to travel beforehand, to reacquaint themselves with the modern era. Matt supposed that when you could live forever, it would be all too easy to just let time pass you by and find yourself lost in a world beyond your understanding. Travelling meant experiencing the world, keeping yourself anchored in it, and he had tried to squash the stab of envy at the things the brothers would see while he was stuck in Fell's Church.

That envy is a distant memory in the cold light of day, and now Matt just feels miserable, because Stefan is really leaving. For the first time in the past week he realises that his misery has nothing to do with letting Elena go at last. He has to let go of Stefan now, and he's certain that this goodbye will be final, that he'll never hear from the vampire again. After all, Stefan will remain forever young, while he has to grow up. Grow old. It's a pain that he's sure Stefan doesn't want to face again, not after losing Elena. Matt doesn't blame him, but it doesn't make his own loss any easier to bear.

It's not fair, he decides, that he has to lose the love of his life and his best friend in the space of a short, miserable week. He toes the pathway with a tattered sneaker, scowling at the concrete as if it's to blame for his current woe, trying to avoid looking at Stefan as he pulls the door to Mrs Flowers' boarding house firmly shut behind him. Looking at Stefan hurts, but the thought of never seeing him again pains him more, so Matt forces himself to look up, to meet the sad, steady gaze of the vampire. Green eyes meet blue, reflecting a shared sorrow, a shared loss, a connection that binds them together.

A connection that Stefan is about to sever.

Moments, that's all they have left, and it's just _not enough_. A lump forms in Matt's throat, and he fights to stop the tears that threaten to fall. So much to say, so little time left. "Stefan... I..." Matt can't find the words he needs to express everything he needs to tell his best friend. He shakes his head and his face crumples with frustration. Stefan smiles sadly, squeezes Matt's arm as if understanding words unsaid, and moves to leave.

A sudden burst of terror at the prospect of loss uncurls in Matt's chest, and in an act borne of desperation, of pure instinct and no thought as to the consequences, Matt darts forward, catching Stefan's lips with his own.

It's a simple kiss, sweet, almost chaste. But it's filled with wanting and need, and emotions that Matt can't even properly identify for himself, let alone put into words for Stefan. It doesn't matter what his friend thinks of him now, of this uncharacteristic, physical display of emotion; it's just vital to Matt that Stefan _knows_ that he feels this much for him, how important he is to him before he's gone for good.

He ends the kiss reluctantly, their lips parting slowly. Matt rests his forehead against Stefan's his eyes shut, breath shaky with emotion. "Don't leave me again," Matt breathes against Stefan's lips. "I don't want to be alone any more. I... I need you."

"Matt..." Stefan's voice cracks painfully. Matt can't bear it if the next words out of Stefan's mouth are a form of rejection, and raises his fingers to cover the other boy's mouth, to silence the inevitable. His other hand grasps Stefan's arm, clutching at it desperately, as if the vampire is his only remaining lifeline.

"Stefan, _please_," he implores earnestly, and now the tears fall unashamedly; any humiliation he might have felt at crying had been burned away already with the touch of Stefan's lips. Hot, salty droplets fall from his closed lashes to trail down his cheeks. He manages to work past the thickness of emotion threatening to close his throat and whispers, "I need you. Only you."

Stefan remains silent, and when Matt pulls back, he opens his eyes to find his green gaze shining up at him with their familiar sadness. But there's a glimmer of something else in Stefan's eyes now, of understanding, of hope, and of overwhelming love. Stefan is smiling almost serenely at him, their eyes locking together unwaveringly. His cool hand slips into Matt's own, fingers twining together, anchoring him to the vampire, refusing to let him go. Not that Matt would even consider it at this point, determined to cling to every last second he has left.

A gentle tug, and Stefan is walking backwards down the path, pulling the human boy along with him. Matt isn't sure what to make of it, but follows anyway, trusting his best friend implicitly. Damon is waiting by the car on the street, watching with idle interest as the pair approach him. Dark eyes flicker to joined hands, but he otherwise makes no comment.

"Matt will be joining us," Stefan says firmly, with no room for argument. He doesn't say for how long, but Matt hears the underlying words Stefan doesn't say as clearly as those he did.

_For however long he wants_.

Matt's heart leaps with joy, beating double-time as the realisation hits he isn't going to be left alone, that Stefan isn't leaving him behind to grow old and waste his life away. He's going with them, to see the wonders of the world through their eyes.

Damon merely stares at them for a moment before he nods his acceptance, and as simple as that, they leave. No delay to collect belongings, no last goodbyes for Matt; he just leaves it all behind without a second thought, stepping into the car with only the clothes on his back and a handful of loose change in his pocket. He decides he wouldn't want it any other way.

He finds where he belongs, lost with the inhumanly beautiful brothers who have slipped from the deathly cold grasp of time.

***

He calls them at first, Bonnie and Meredith and his mother. Writes them letters, sends them photographs of exotic places and awe-inspiring monuments. He tells them in great detail of his travels around the world with the Salvatore brothers, of the sights he's seen, the people who have inspired him, the amazing things he's learned. Then, phone calls becomes few and far between, and the once-regular letters sporadic. After a few years, even the short postcards letting them know he's still among the living stop coming, though Bonnie feels in her bones that he's alive and well. Matt fades in the minds of his friends to a haze of memories, as unreal and indistinct as those of the cool, summer rain in a woodland clearing from so long ago. Life goes on, new friends enter their lives, love blossoms, and eventually children and grandchildren flow in to fill the void left by Matt Honeycutt's strange and sudden departure all those years ago.

***

It is sunny on the day of the funeral, defying any convention that states funerals should be grey and cheerless, a fitting tribute to the bright and beautiful personality of the deceased. Bonnie Cassidy - née McCullough - lies in an open casket, framed by scented spring flowers. Not young as she'd once romanticised, but still forever beautiful, the lines on her face marking the pattern of a life lived to its fullest, filled with joy and happiness. Family and old friends file past to pay their final respects, marvelling at the impact she has had on their lives, lamenting the loss of one so dear to them.

The trio of boys who arrive as if from nowhere seem strangely out of place; no one seems to know them, and they certainly aren't local, but they carry themselves with such a sad, solemn air that there is no doubt that their mourning is genuine. They each pause to say a silent goodbye, caressing Bonnie's worn cheeks gently, lovingly, before they move on to blend in with the swelling crowd of all who had known and loved the woman. They leave as silently as they arrived, the only evidence of their ever being there the single, blood-red rose that the taller, blonde boy had reverently placed to rest on her breast.

If Bonnie's eldest recognises Matt Honeycutt from his mother's cherished childhood photographs, he keeps it to himself. He contents himself with the certainty that his mother's memory will live on to the ends of time, even if he cannot fathom how it is at all possible. Some questions, he decides, are best left unasked.

**Fin.**


End file.
